


Small Packages

by wintermadethissoldier



Series: Good Things, Small Packages [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Fix-It, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Poor bucky he has to deal with this small idiot now, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve doesn't stay in the 40s, Steve gets turned back into pre-serum instead of old steve, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, bucky barnes is STRESSED, how endgame should have ended fuck u russos, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermadethissoldier/pseuds/wintermadethissoldier
Summary: Steve comes back after returning the stones, but something went wrong and he comes back pre-serum. Bucky nearly has a heart attack.





	Small Packages

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a lil something that's been floating around in my head ever since I saw Endgame because I SWEAR I am not the only person that thought that it was pre-serum Steve on the bench instead of old Steve. This is what we deserved. Also thanks to Alex for being a total dear and creating a billion headcanons of this dynamic with me.

Bucky’s hands are in his pockets, staring through the space on the platform where Steve is supposed to be. He registers that Sam and Banner are yelling behind him, but he can’t bring himself to move an inch. Last night, Steve had avoided Bucky’s eyes and told him that things might be different after tomorrow. Coward. He had stayed to live his picture-perfect life with Carter and had left Bucky alone in the 21st century. They were supposed to be men out of time together, were supposed to follow each other to the end of the line. Bucky had been gone for five years and Steve couldn’t even muster an, “I’ll miss you too” to his best friend of almost a century.

Bucky can’t even muster the emotional strength to be disappointed, upset, furious, the dozens of emotions that were threatening to choke him. He just closes his eyes, lets the part of his brain that had ruled for 70 years take over—no feelings, just icy emptiness. He opens his eyes and sees someone on the bench, a slight frame and tousled hair that Bucky would recognize blind. His brain breaks free of the ice and he’s suddenly swearing, patting his jacket and whirling on Sam and Bruce. “Do you have an inhaler?” They’re both still yelling at each other over the machine, shutting up immediately as they sees Bucky’s face.

“An inhaler?” Sam repeats, wondering not for the first time if Bucky has finally lost his damn mind.

But Bucky’s already taking off at a near-sprint towards the water, swearing up a blue streak. He skids to a stop in front of the bench, his eyes darting over Steve like he has only seconds to memorize him before he disappears forever.

“You reckless fucking son of a bitch, Jesus _Christ_ you could have killed yourself _goddammit_ I should have never stopped carrying that fucking inhaler.” Bucky’s words come out in a rush, his composure fracturing more by the second.

“Hi, Buck.” Steve’s tilted smile and soft voice is enough to bring Bucky to his knees, staring at him like he’s risen from the dead. Tiny, fragile, pre-serum Steve in all of his 98-pound glory in front of him like it was the most normal goddamn thing in the world.

“What did you _do_?” Bucky’s voice comes out more like a whisper, almost on the edge of hysteria. Maybe he _did_ lose his mind and this is just a new fun side-effect: hallucinations. Why couldn’t he get something fun like Steve in an American flag speedo instead of something that is making his blood pressure go through the roof?

Steve glances out at the water, then pats the spot next to him. Bucky numbly follows, suddenly all-too aware of how _big_ he is next to Steve; for fuck’s sake, he could probably squash him flat if he rested a hand on the top of his head. He’s quiet for a while, staring down at his clasped hands. “After I put all the stones back, I tried to get more Pym Particles. Never know when you might need them, y’know? It was the least I could do for Scott after everything...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Something went wrong between when I was in Pym’s lab and trying to come back here. It...happened once, with Scott, when we were trying to figure out how to go back and get the stones. Tony called it pushing time through someone rather than pushing someone through time. Whatever happened, I got turned back into...” He gestures down at himself. “What I was before.”

Bucky is breathlessly silent for a few moments before he exhales, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. It’s a billion times better than losing him altogether, but he still can’t _believe_ what’s happened. He tries to focus on the positive: Steve didn’t leave. He might not have even ever intended to stay. “I thought you were going to stay. With Carter.” He doesn’t look at Steve, just lifts his head and looks out at the water.

Steve blinks, genuinely confused. “Stay? Buck, why would I go _back_? Sure I miss Peggy, but she had a husband and kids...I _buried_ her eight years ago. Everything I have...it’s here now.” He glances at Bucky, then back where Sam and Banner are currently standing stock-still, their mouths wide open in shock.

“But you said...things would be different.” Bucky turns slowly towards him, wanting to make sure he’s heard Steve right. Allows himself to hope, just a little, that Steve wanted to stay here. With him.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow, a little line appearing between them that’s so familiar that it makes Bucky’s teeth ache. “ _Different_ , not...something entirely _altered_.” He almost looks hurt, like Bucky misjudging him this far had never even occurred to him. And even though Bucky knows it’d probably kill him now, he wants to pick Steve up and chuck him into the lake for being so _stupid_. “I wanted to...I was going to retire.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky hadn’t been expecting that and it stills him into silence. Steve “I Can Do This All Day” Rogers, putting down the mantle he’s carried since 1943—it seemed impossible to him. But he’s also seen the new exhaustion in Steve’s eyes, the past five years leaving a mark on him that’s gone deeper than he’s been willing to talk about. At first he’s relieved—he doesn’t care if Steve is Captain America or a professional tap dancer as long as he’s still _Steve_ can he can stay by his side. But then he’s incredulous, angry all over again at Steve’s vague and shifty attitude the night before. And it’s like Steve can read his mind, because before he can even get a word out, Steve is talking.

“I was going to give it to Sam. I was worried you would be hurt or angry with me if I told you beforehand, especially if something happened and I...couldn’t come back.” He won’t meet Bucky’s eyes again, like he’s nervous of what his reaction might be. He hasn’t looked this nervous and fidgety around him since before the war and it makes Bucky’s heart twist painfully.

“Sometimes you can be a real idiot.” Bucky says finally, blowing out a breath. “The public doesn’t want a former assassin as their next Captain America.” He holds up a hand before Steve can protest. “Nope, I’m not gonna hear it. Sam’ll make a great Cap. I’ve been fighting nonstop for like 80 years, Steve. If I don’t have to follow your sorry ass into battle every time you piss off some intergalactic force, hurray for me. I don’t care about the mantle, I care about you.” He’d follow Steve anywhere, for however long he needed him for, but he was so damn tired of being little more than a weapon, even if he was in control now. Wakanda made him realize that he wanted a life that wasn’t ruled by adrenaline and destruction and gunpowder. He allows himself to hope, briefly, that they could have that—both of them, together.

Steve swallows hard, hesitating for a moment before pulling out several vials of something red from his jacket. “I got them.” He says, the faintest smile on his lips as he looks up at Bucky. “We could go back, if you wanted. Have a normal life for a bit, y’know? Get an apartment with heat this time, get rich by betting on all the right horses...” He trails off, letting Bucky fill in the rest with his own imaginings. His eyes are glittering and Bucky is so thrown off guard that he lets himself imagine it for a moment. Just the two of them against the world all over again, no aliens or magic or armies coming after them. But the dream quickly fractures, falls apart under more than a passing glance; Steve, now so damn fragile, not having access to the medical wonders from the 21st century. Bucky would have to get a far more realistic prosthetic or spend his entire life wearing sleeves and gloves and he’d have to cut his hair (somehow that thought was scarier than getting yet another prosthetic attached to his nervous system). All of Steve’s friends were here now, regardless of whether or not he was Captain America, and even Bucky had a few people here he didn’t completely hate. He had just gotten adjusted to modern technology, had finally found out how to use his metal arm with an iPhone and had just discovered Netflix. They would be going back to a time away from Shuri and everything else that could promise to keep him sane if things got bad again, a period where Nazis still had control of entire countries and black people were even more segregated and people like him were shoved into concentration camps for daring to love men.

He realizes a beat too late that Steve wasn’t offering because _he_ wanted to go back—he already said that everything he has is in this century—he was offering for _Bucky_. Going back would give him a fresh start, a life where nobody knew that he was the Winter Soldier and where he could just be Bucky Barnes again. A simpler life, just like he had always wanted. And stupid, naive, selfless Steve had been willing to go back to a time he knew he didn’t fit in, had barely survived the first time, all so that Bucky could have a chance at normalcy. He can’t speak for a moment, emotion crawling his way up his throat and making it hard to breathe around. “We don’t belong there anymore and you know it, punk. They’ve got penicillin now. We’re staying right here, I think.” He finally gets out, hoping Steve doesn’t hear the way his voice tightens.

They’re quiet for a few moments, both of them watching the sun dip towards the water. Bucky wishes Tony were here, even though they never got along. He would have helped Steve, would have known exactly what to build and how to keep him safe. After he was done laughing his ass off at Steve, of course. But he thinks he can ask T’Challa and Shuri for help, maybe even take Steve back to Wakanda for a bit while they figure out what exactly his body went through during time travel. They mostly got rid of polio and tuberculosis and shit, right? Maybe it won’t be so bad, now that they’ve got money for doctors and heat and good food. He knows he’s mostly just trying to talk himself down from a panic attack, but it’s a calming thought nonetheless. Things are totally different, but they’ll roll with the punches like they always have, together.

“Brooklyn?” Steve finally says, standing up and offering Bucky a hand. And the sight of it is so ridiculous, all 5’4” of Steve acting like he can pull the Winter Soldier to his feet that Bucky _laughs_ , a sound that bounces off the trees and the dock and surprises even him. He can’t remember the last time he’s laughed. He stands, taking Steve’s hand in his own gently and shaking it. He tries his best to ignore the dual pang of panic at how easily he could crush his hands now and the ever-present bolt of desire at touching Steve.

“Brooklyn.” He agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> I might expand this into a series of drabbles trying to figure out their life together after this because I absolutely adore this concept. So hit that mf kudos and comment button if you wanna see that too.
> 
> Update: I did write more! See the next work for some domestic fluff.


End file.
